Inspiration(Poem)

Toiling pen,
stretched paper,
and
wilted lips
from mood-bites
couldn’t resist
the sight of a mountain.

the reckless winds
quiet moods of trees
dirt bikes
drunken windscreen wipers
at the camp
made the ghosted and fatigued soul
to drink the elixir of life.

The fuel tank was low
but
the gas lantern
was high
to lit up
with the talks of labor
and the talks of reflections.

Stars
up above
and the
horizons
with their longings
made the moments
a long De javu.

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